


Bucky Barnes Builds a Nest?

by theassetsass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling, Everyone Lives In The Tower and Nothing Bad Happened Ever, Kissing, M/M, bucky builds a nest, dumb idiots in love, its cute i promise, theres stuffed animals and everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 19:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20069251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theassetsass/pseuds/theassetsass
Summary: Bucky finds safety through creature comforts, his teammate, and a vent shaft?ORBucky steals one of Clint's favorite hiding spots, builds a nest, steals some shit and the two fall in love.





	Bucky Barnes Builds a Nest?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [J.B.B. Was (Is) Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20069647) by [GreyishBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyishBlue/pseuds/GreyishBlue). 

> This was done in collaboration with the amazing @GreyishBlue who drew some gorgeous art for this!
> 
> *This work is apart of the Winterhawk 2019 Bingo. This is a fill for the Secret Admirer square.*

Bucky stumbled upon Clint’s hiding spot by accident, the leftover paranoia from HYDRA reared its ugly head when he noticed the archer slipping away for hours at a time. It wasn’t like the others didn’t find their own spots for some peace and quiet. Tony always escaped to his lab, Steve sought out the solitude of a punching bag, hell even Banner snuck off to the rooftop when everything got to be overwhelming. The fact that Clint seemed to vanish into thin air was what bothered the ex-assassin.

Bucky found himself wandering through the darkened halls of the tower, his seemingly never ending night terrors leaving the man restless but too afraid to brave outside. New York never seemed sleep and Bucky didn’t have the patience or will power to deal with the drunkards stumbling home from their nights out. He was nearing the end of one of the lesser used halls, nothing but guest rooms and empty closets to fill the space when he saw it. The light filtering out of the vent was dim, not really enough to even be noticeable had the over head lights been on. The vent’s grate was positioned a little above Bucky’s head which meant he had to boost himself up on the decorative table that was conveniently pushed against the wall to peek in. The light seemed to be coming from around the bend of the vent which was odd because the vents only led to Stark’s overly fancy and self-sufficient circulation system. 

With furrowed eyebrows, Bucky used the edges of his metal hand to twist the screws out of place and pop the grate open with nothing more than a muted squeak of the metals rubbing against one another. Hoisting himself into the vent was a bit of a challenge, his bulky shoulders providing some resistance against the small space, but eventually Bucky found himself crawling through the shaft heading towards the source of the dim light. His movements were slow and careful, his breathing evening out as he reached the turn. Bucky wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find, perhaps a homeless person camping out in the vents or an alien sent to assassinate them all in their sleep. What he found however surprised him more than anything. 

The opening could hardly be called a room, only a bit bigger than a closet really, with an old battery powered camp lantern dangling from one of the pipes that ran overhead. The space was empty, a few pipes stretching across the ceiling. It was surprisingly chilly, the air sending goosebumps along Bucky’s skin as emerged from the vent and straightened up into a seated position. Despite the cool air and ominous lantern, Bucky found himself almost comforted by the seclusion and limited space. After all those years in cryo, he thought that small spaces would send him running but it turned out to be the opposite. Sometimes all the empty space got to be too much and he’d find himself curled into the corner of his closet doing his best to ignore Steve’s attempts to get him to come out. 

Bucky didn’t realize that he was falling asleep in the room until he slumped fully into the corner, his head tilting so his hair blocked out the light from the lantern. He only intended to close his eyes for a few moments, to relax enough that he might be able to return to his own bed and sleep for a few more hours. However the next time he opened his eyes Bucky knew that hours had passed. His neck was stiff, and the metal wall bracing his head wasn’t comfortable by a long shot but it was the best sleep he’d had in months.  
Over the course of the next few weeks Bucky found himself returning to the room more often than not. He’d outfitted the room in pillows and soft plush blankets making almost a nest of sorts to burrow into. He even went as far as moving the large stuffed horse that Steve had jokingly won Bucky on an admittedly fun day out at Coney Island. He had stuck it in there on a whim convinced it would just get mashed under his body weight when he fell asleep, but Bucky soon found himself cuddling the horse on especially rough nights. 

Almost as if on accident Bucky found himself collecting more and more plush toys for his nest. First was the shark he bought from the supermarket after making a lame joke that a shark was the cause of his amputation. An overstuffed lamb that was too fluffy to resist soon followed. Eventually his nest resembled a small zoo complete with a long green eel draped over a few of the pipes for ‘decoration.’ It had felt almost silly at first to be a grown man that indulged in something as innocent as cuddling stuffed animals in order to sleep, but Bucky wasn’t able to deny how safe he felt when he was bundled up in his nest. 

His next piece of decoration for his den came to him in the aftermath of a particularly nasty mission involving murderous robots and a lot of unnecessary drones. The bots had been equipped with a mechanism that emitted a pulse of energy rendering anything electronic useless which included both Bucky’s arm and Tony’s suit. They had both been in the midst of the fight, fighting off their share of the drones when the pulse had hit. Steve had been close enough to get Tony out of danger, but Bucky wasn’t in range of any of the team and with a heavy metal arm acting as dead weight he was in big trouble. 

Bucky had almost made it to safety, the building that Clint was perched upon remained largely untouched and seemingly safe, when the mechanical whirr of the bots’ blaster geared up right behind him. He barely had time to turn, good hand raising to hopefully protect his face a little from the blast when the robot exploded into hundreds of pieces. Bucky’s heart seized when he saw the remains of one of Clint’s explosive arrows sticking out of a piece of its body. Well what was left of it at least. Comms were back up by the time Bucky reached the top of the building which meant he didn’t miss Clint’s smart remark regarding his saving of Bucky’s life. 

Together the two perched on the top of the building picking the remainder of the airborne targets with bow and rifle respectively. By the end of it all, Clint was left nursing a nasty burn on his forearm while the remains of his bow sat at his feet, snapped in half practically from a rogue blaster. On an impulse, Bucky snatched a bit of the bow as they left the rooftop in pursuit of the quinjet. Bucky hung the bow’s remains in his den that night. 

Days passed as they always had with Bucky settling into his place within the team, but now Bucky felt inexplicably drawn to Clint. It was confusing, he hadn’t felt the need to get this close to someone since before HYDRA, and he kept asking himself why Clint. He was messy, he always talked too loud, and filled the room with a chaotic energy that left Bucky’s head spinning, but Bucky wanted more. He wanted to know what it felt like to wake up next to him, or how Clint would react to Bucky kissing him silly to shut up his ramblings about the latest episode of Dog Cops. He wanted Clint to make him feel safe. Bucky stole the quilt off of Clint’s couch that night when the archer was fast asleep, aids strewn across his bedside table. 

It was old and purple and covered in Hawkeye logos and targets, but it was perfect. It replaced the quilt he’d been using to sleep under in his den, and Bucky was comforted by the scent of Clint each night. Laying there surrounded by all the soft toys and blankets he’d managed to acquire and blanketed in Clint Bucky truly felt safe. He didn’t have a single nightmare that night. 

Weeks passed and Bucky was convinced that he’d gotten away with his small bought of breaking and entering until he returned to his den after dinner. At a glance everything was still the same, the strands of fairy lights that Bucky had replaced the camp light with shone a soft glow across the small room illuminating everything in it. His nest was the way he’d left it that morning, enough space left between the pile of plushes for Bucky to wedge himself into, but something was off. It wasn’t until he moved to closely inspect his nest that he saw it. 

Perched on top of the large tiger that acted as Bucky’s pillow was a tiny purple hawk. It fit in the palm of Bucky’s hand and was made of the softest plush. It was perfect. But it wasn’t Bucky’s. He’d carefully calculated everything in the room, went out and bought each object himself despite easy delivery to the tower. He remembered every detail that he put into the room, and he didn’t put the hawk in there. Someone had found his space. 

Panic flooded Bucky’s system for a moment before logic and reason kicked in, and he found himself settling under the quilt to mull over the small stuffed creature still in his grip. Either someone had discovered his feelings for Clint, and the bird was meant to scare him. To let him know someone had information to blackmail him with later, or Clint knew. His heart squeezed in fear at the latter. He was still coming to terms himself with his feelings for his teammate, and definitely wasn’t ready to have his heart crushed. Not yet. For the first time since discovering the room Bucky slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning and feeling almost as if he was being watched. 

Nothing else appeared in his space in the following days, and Bucky was beginning to think that whoever stuck the bird in his nest was going to leave him be. That was until he returned to the den after dinner to discover Clint himself sitting beside his nest, the purple hawk in his hands. Bucky found himself frozen as he caught sight of the taller man, half hoping he’d be able to back his way out of the room and the crawlspace until he could flee to the safety of his bedroom. Clint was faster though, he caught sight of Bucky the moment he appeared in the small entryway, extending a large and calloused hand to help pull him from the cramped opening. 

“I like what you did with the place, the lights are a lot better than my old camping lantern, and that quilt you’ve got was a nice touch. Been looking for that thing for weeks ya know.” He didn’t sound upset, his tone was soft and sounded almost fond. Despite himself, Bucky felt his cheeks flushing at the mention of the quilt that he’d stolen out the archer’s room in the middle of the night. 

“I can explain-” Bucky was cut off by warm chapped lips pressing clumsily to Bucky’s own, one of Clint's hands fisting into the soft material of Bucky’s sleep shirt and the other still holding the bird. It took him a moment too long to catch up with what was happening, for Clint was already beginning to pull away.

His lips were parting as if he was ready to make an excuse, but Bucky seized forward, knocking their foreheads together as he claimed Clint’s lips in a clumsy kiss. Bucky let Clint take control, lips stretching into a grin as one of Clint’s hands skimmed under his shirt to brush against the soft warm skin of his abdomen. He allowed Clint to nudge him back until they were stretched across Bucky’s nest, Clint’s forearms supporting his weight on either side of Bucky’s head. They exchanged a few more slow kisses before pulling away to catch their breath, foreheads pressed together. A calloused thumb skimmed Bucky’s cheekbone and Clint leaned down to press a final kiss to Bucky’s lips. He rolled them both until Bucky was stretched out between Clint’s legs, cheek pressed to the man’s chest. 

“You’re not mad?” Bucky’s hand was worrying the fabric at the bottom of Clint’s grey t-shirt, a nervous habit he’d picked up after coming out of cryo for the last time. 

“Why would I be angry? You only stole my favorite quilt and hideout,” Bucky rolled his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from his tone and punched Clint in the stomach lightly. 

“You’re a jerk.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah I guess I do.”

“I love you too. The team’s going to die when they hear the Winter Soldier has a secret den of stuffed animals- _hey ow!_”__

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [J.B.B. Was (Is) Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20069647) by [GreyishBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyishBlue/pseuds/GreyishBlue)


End file.
